There are two passions holding equal space in my heart. The love for teaching, with students' eyes brightening as they learn and excitement as they discuss their findings. Then there is the love for theatre, with a loving ensemble surrounding me and exploration of myself. The third, and truest passion for myself, is teaching through theatre. I first fell in love with teaching through theatre and dance. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I realized my passion for working with students. I saw how much the arts impacted these young artists when they realized the human connection that comes with the performing arts. One student broke down in tears upon the realization that theatre is what made him happy, and he got to do it with friends who loved him as much as he loved them. He loved the human connection that comes with creativity and performing with others. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. Using arts integration in the classroom makes me a strong educator. It always makes me smile when I see student personalities emerge when I ask them to read dialogue aloud or when I ask them to draw a picture of what they imagine the set to be. I have also used theatre games to teach computer science skills. While asking students to create a sequence of dance steps for every time someone says trigger words may not appear to connect to computer science, but it teaches algorithms and buttons in an offline way. There was a language barrier, but music, movement, and expression taught more than we could try to convey with words. For these reasons, theatre is a prominent part of all of my classrooms, regardless of age, subject, or country. This past semester, I researched the impact of theatre and theatre-based games in comprehension, fluency, and overall reading abilities. We focused on using theatre to further understandings of the story and theatre. Students would improv a fable as I read it aloud and use their background knowledge to inspire distinctive character choices, read scripts aloud to each other, and use the bodies and voices to tell the story. I have found that student fluency, comprehension, and overall confidence in reading has skyrocketed. J is a student who kept his head down, and told me, “I don’t like reading, I don’t have good ideas,” when I asked him to participate in the group. I now have pages upon pages of world building for characters he created, after watching him shine as The Prince in his scene. Additionally, L showed enthusiasm for reading but struggled with the pragmatics and understanding what she read. By the end of my research, L could tell me what her character’s objective was and inferences from the text for how the character would act and react in scenes. Even if J and L were the only students who improved, I would consider myself accomplished. I do not yet know what my future as an educator holds. However, I do know that theatre has been one of the most impactful influences on my life. Personally, I have met some of my best friends and created memories of a lifetime; professionally, I have been able to develop a variety of skills that I can use in any job field. No matter where or what I teach, I know that theatre will be a part of my life.

There are two passions holding equal space in my heart. The love for teaching, with students' eyes brightening as they uncover knowledge and excited chatter as they discuss their findings. Then there is the love for theatre, with a loving ensemble surrounding me and exploration of myself through a character. knowing you still have to wake up early for class. The third, and truest passion for myself, is teaching through theatre. first fell in love with teaching through theatre and dance. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I realized my passion for working with students. I saw how much the arts impacted these young artists when they realized the raw human connection that comes with the performing arts. One student, Patch, broke down in tears upon the realization that theatre is what made him happy, and he got to do it with friends who loved him as much as he loved them. He loved the human connection that comes with creativity and performing with others. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I have taught in five elementary classrooms, and a classroom abroad. Using arts integration in the classroom makes me a strong educator and a lifelong learner beside my students. It always makes me smile when I see student personalities emerge when I ask them to read dialogue aloud or when I ask them to draw a picture of what they imagine the set to be. I have also used theatre games to teach computer science skills. There was a language barrier, but music, movement, and expression taught more than we could try to convey with words. Theatre is a prominent part of all of my classrooms, regardless of age, subject, or country. I do not yet know what my future as an educator holds. However, I do know that theatre has been one of the most impactful influences on my life. Personally, I have met some of my best friends and created memories of a lifetime; professionally, I have been able to develop a variety of skills that I can use in any job field. No matter where or what I teach, I know that theatre will be a part of my life.

There are two passions holding equal space in my heart. The love for teaching, with students' eyes brightening as they uncover knowledge and excited chatter as they discuss their findings. Students proudly showing their work, and their contagious energy as they learn. Then there is the love for theatre, with a loving ensemble surrounding me and exploration of myself through a character. The highs of an opening night with the lows of late (but always rewarding) rehearsals, knowing you still have to wake up early for class. The third, and truest passion for myself, is teaching through theatre. I first fell in love with teaching through theatre and dance. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I realized my passion for working with students. I saw how much the arts impacted these young artists when they realized the raw human connection that comes with the performing arts. One student, Patch, broke down in tears upon the realization that theatre is what made him happy, and he got to do it with friends who loved him as much as he loved them. Another student, Vivi, simply said “I like dancing because it makes me happy to tell stories with my friends.” While Patch had a much more profound realization, both he and Vivi loved the human connection that comes with creativity and performing with others. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree) and a reading endorsement. I have taught in five elementary classrooms, and even one middle-grade classroom abroad. Additionally, I have completed a theatre minor. My use of arts integration in the classroom makes me a strong educator and a lifelong learner beside my students. For example, a fourth grade English language arts standard involves the analysis of scripts compared to other types of text. I have used a variety of scripts in my classroom to engage students based on their interests and reading levels, breaking down the components of theatre on paper and bringing it to life. It always makes me smile when I see student personalities emerge when I ask them to read dialogue aloud or when I ask them to draw a picture of what they imagine the set to be. I have also used theatre games to teach computer science skills. While asking students to create a sequence of dance steps for every time someone says trigger words may not appear to connect to computer science, but it teaches algorithms and buttons in an offline (unplugged) way. There was a language barrier, as many of these students did not have English as their first language, but music, movement, and expression taught more than we could try to convey with words. For these reasons, theatre is a prominent part of all of my classrooms, regardless of age, subject, or country. I do not yet know what my future as an educator holds. However, I do know that theatre has been one of the most impactful influences on my life. Personally, I have met some of my best friends and created memories of a lifetime; professionally, I have been able to develop a variety of skills that I can use in any job field. No matter where or what I teach, I know that theatre will be a part of my life.

There are two passions holding equal space in my heart. The love for teaching, with students' eyes brightening as they uncover knowledge and excited chatter as they discuss their findings. Students proudly showing their work, and their contagious energy as they learn. Then there is the love for theatre, with a loving ensemble surrounding me and exploration of myself through a character. The highs of an opening night with the lows of late (but always rewarding) rehearsals, knowing you still have to wake up early for class. The third, and truest passion for myself, is teaching through theatre. I first fell in love with teaching through theatre and dance. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I realized my passion for working with students. I saw how much the arts impacted these young artists when they realized the raw human connection that comes with the performing arts. One student, Patch, broke down in tears upon the realization that theatre is what made him happy, and he got to do it with friends who loved him as much as he loved them. Another student, Vivi, simply said “I like dancing because it makes me happy to tell stories with my friends.” While Patch had a much more profound realization, both he and Vivi loved the human connection that comes with creativity and performing with others. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree) and a reading endorsement. I have taught in five elementary classrooms, and even one middle-grade classroom abroad. Additionally, I have completed a theatre minor. My use of arts integration in the classroom makes me a strong educator and a lifelong learner beside my students. For example, a fourth grade English language arts standard involves the analysis of scripts compared to other types of text. I have used a variety of scripts in my classroom to engage students based on their interests and reading levels, breaking down the components of theatre on paper and bringing it to life. It always makes me smile when I see student personalities emerge when I ask them to read dialogue aloud or when I ask them to draw a picture of what they imagine the set to be. I have also used theatre games to teach computer science skills. While asking students to create a sequence of dance steps for every time someone says trigger words may not appear to connect to computer science, but it teaches algorithms and buttons in an offline (unplugged) way. There was a language barrier, as many of these students did not have English as their first language, but music, movement, and expression taught more than we could try to convey with words. For these reasons, theatre is a prominent part of all of my classrooms, regardless of age, subject, or country. I do not yet know what my future as an educator holds. However, I do know that theatre has been one of the most impactful influences on my life. Personally, I have met some of my best friends and created memories of a lifetime; professionally, I have been able to develop a variety of skills that I can use in any job field. No matter where or what I teach, I know that theatre will be a part of my life.

Education is an art, so it makes sense that I found it through performance. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree) and a reading endorsement, where I have been placed in four classrooms for my major. Additionally, I have completed a theatre minor. My use of arts integration in the classroom makes me a strong educator and a lifelong learner beside my students. Many of the skills learned in theatre are also used in teaching. Using your body, voice, and expression to give or command attention is an especially useful tool. Silly voices when reading to students are also beneficial. But, most importantly, I use theatre to engage students in any grade or subject. I ask both my education and theatre professors when I want advice because teaching requires you to wear different hats and reach every student possible. I have also worked with a variety of students in a variety of settings. As previously mentioned, I have taught in four field placements, as well as two summer camps, and numerous volunteer projects or babysitting jobs. This past spring, I worked with K. K was a first grader with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and autism spectrum disorder. Often, we wiggled on the ground while we worked on assignments, or I would write his answers down. I needed to find creative ways to engage with him, so I frequently treated the class like an acting camp and gave tasks, such as “Tell me your answer like a robot.” Another student I worked with at a summer camp was D. D was a 12-year-old boy with an emotional behavior disorder and a reading/speech delay. At first, he hardly said a word and had loud meltdowns in classes. I was able to work with him and simplify scripts for him to say one line at a time and take breaks from his peers. Two weeks later, he read a Shakespearean sonnet to the class, but better yet he had made four friends. While students are rarely comparable, both K and D tested my style of teaching and taught me to think quickly and creatively to fit student needs. My eventual goal is to be a fourth-grade teacher. I want to teach ELA, with creativity. Students can perform reader’s theatre for books that the entire class is reading or devise their own works in small groups. Those with a flair for the dramatic could be performers. While theatre and reading are rarely correlated outside of scripts, they are connected. To properly perform, an actor must read about every character to portray their character well. They must know how their character thinks and acts in each scenario and cite evidence to justify their claims. Those who prefer to remain backstage can design. They can choose backgrounds to display on the board based on the setting, select costumes from the class closet based on the character’s descriptions, and even write a script based on the character’s thoughts and actions. The use of the arts in the classroom can especially help reluctant readers find a show that they enjoy, and use reading to bring it to life. Learning is meant to be fun, and arts inclusion in the classroom is a tool to facilitate it.

Education is an art, so it makes sense that I found it through performance. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree) and a reading endorsement, where I have been placed in four classrooms for my major. Additionally, I have completed a theatre minor. My use of arts integration in the classroom makes me a strong educator and a lifelong learner beside my students. Many of the skills learned in theatre are also used in teaching. Using your body, voice, and expression to give or command attention is an especially useful tool. Silly voices when reading to students are also beneficial. But, most importantly, I use theatre to engage students in any grade or subject. I ask students to read aloud in the classes that I have been in and encourage them to act out the characters’ lives or provide background onomatopoeias to create a soundscape. For the students who would prefer to stay behind the scenes, I ask them to design what they think the setting of a historical event or scientific discovery looks like. I ask both my education and theatre professors when I want advice because teaching requires you to wear different hats and reach every student possible. I have also worked with a variety of students in a variety of settings. As previously mentioned, I have taught in four field placements, as well as two summer camps, and numerous volunteer projects or babysitting jobs. This past spring, I worked with K. K was a first grader with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and autism spectrum disorder. Often, we wiggled on the ground while we worked on assignments, or I would write his answers down. I needed to find creative ways to engage with him, so I frequently treated the class like an acting camp and gave tasks, such as “Tell me your answer like a robot.” K tested my style of teaching and taught me to think quickly and creatively to fit student needs. My eventual goal is to be a fourth-grade teacher. I do not definitively know what subject I will teach (likely English language arts), but I do know that creativity will have a place alongside my students. Students can perform reader’s theatre for books that the entire class is reading or devise their own works in small groups. Those with a flair for the dramatic could be performers. While theatre and reading are rarely correlated outside of scripts, they are connected. To properly perform, an actor must read about every character to portray their character well. They must know how their character thinks and acts in each scenario and cite evidence to justify their claims. Those who prefer to remain backstage can design. They can choose backgrounds to display on the board based on the setting, select costumes from the class closet based on the character’s descriptions, and even write a script based on the character’s thoughts and actions. The use of the arts in the classroom can especially help reluctant readers find a show that they enjoy, and use reading to bring it to life. Learning is meant to be fun, and arts inclusion in the classroom is a tool to facilitate it.

"Come on, you don't wanna be left out! You'll be the only person who hasn't read it, plus I think you'll like it." My friend Nora begged. It was February 2012, and her birthday party was Percy Jackson-themed that year. I had been stubborn about reading it, but this was the sentence that wore me down; my fear of exclusion outweighed my stubbornness. I sighed reluctantly, "Fine. But just the first book." She smiled and nodded before we entered our ballet class. The next morning, I went to the local library and selected Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Theif. As I cracked open the already well-loved and worn book, my eyes fell on the first sentence. "Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood." I cannot remember my next thoughts, but before I knew it I had finished the book. I have never struggled with reading. I tore through books all through elementary and middle school, enjoying learning new things and exploring a variety of worlds. However, I had never felt like I saw myself in my books until I discovered Rick Riordan. Like Percy, I was usually distracted but wanted to help people; like Annabeth, I felt like an outsider within my own family; like Grover, trying new things was scary unless my friends were with me; and like every child, demigod or mortal, I craved acceptance and explanation for why I was not "normal." It would take another eight years for a diagnosis, but just like my favorite demigods, I discovered I had attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Many teenagers might have seen the diagnosis as a ball and chain, but I smiled. My nine-year-old self had been right, my battle instincts simply were not meant for school and the mortal world. Through the years, I have grown up in a world of demigods and monsters. I have attended two of Rick Riordan's book tours, made countless Halloween costumes and cosplays, and made memorable friendships. When I was thirteen, I was wearing my hand-made Camp Half-Blood shirt at ballet when the quiet new girl approached me. "I like your shirt," she said. "Who's your godly parent?" We soon began acting out quests and battles in the courtyard, becoming our own heroes. This past summer, I stood as a bridesmaid at her wedding. Extending beyond my personal feelings, Percy Jackson makes everyone feel accepted. I am now a junior in college, with an elementary/special education major. I am placed in an elementary school classroom and work there twice a week. I have seen a variety of students of all abilities and cultures. My students do not always see themselves in their reading; I remember the same feeling throughout elementary school. I can show The Lightning Theif and say, "Percy has a hard time reading too. It's because his dyslexia is part of his superpowers." I can show students of color Heroes of Olympus and point out how Leo is Hispanic, Piper is Native American, Hazel is black, and Frank is Chinese, and how their culture is a huge part of their ability to save the world. Rick Riordan is cemented firmly in my life, personally and professionally, and I am forever thankful for Nora's peer pressuring that late winter day.

My roommate and I live two different but equally stressful lives. She is a computer engineering major, who is constantly writing programs and welding projects while applying for internships. She has her math minor as well, keeping her classes stacked. I am an elementary/special education major who balances my coursework and classes with those of my students. I am also a theatre minor, so I do all of this in addition to acting or working backstage. We also must find the time to eat, sleep, and enjoy college. Both of us have struggled with anxiety and depression, especially as our workloads and responsibilities increase. As we continue through our junior year of college, this has only increased. But, we have a near-daily routine to maintain our sanity. She walked into our bedroom to find me stressed and splatted on the floor with my noise-canceling headphones last November, and instead of judging, she joined me. We now jokingly call this "floor time," where we listen to a shared playlist full of classical music, soundscapes, and calming vibes and let gravity wear us down. This time usually occurs around three in the afternoon, when we are both done with classes, and allows us to hit reset on the day. We can think about nothing and allow our bodies to breathe with the comfort of each other without saying a word. While it may look similar to an infant's tummy time, we can escape our responsibilities long enough to refocus with a clear and calm mind. I have recently been diagnosed with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and my roommate and I both struggle with anxiety. This is to say, our minds are rarely quiet. My anxiety increases when I attempt to force calmness or an empty head, as it is nearly impossible. Floor time removes the pressure of productivity-influenced relaxation. I can mindlessly scroll on my phone while wrapped in four blankets without guilt. My brain is not quiet but occupied with thoughts that pass by without significance. If this stimulation is not enough, the shared playlist engages my brain as well Again, it is something to analyze without significance or consequences. My roommate is the reverse. She will listen to the playlist, allowing it to fill her brain fully. If that is not enough, she resorts to her phone to further engage. Clearing our mind does not mean emptying it to nothingness. It means sorting through the clutter of the day, organizing it, and dusting it off by letting such thoughts fade into the background.

My father has been my number-one supporter since day one. He is a disabled veteran and has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. Education is an art form that I was drawn to through theatre. In my senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree), where I have been placed in two classrooms for my major. Initially, I was hesitant about special education because I was uncertain of what it could entail. But in my fieldwork, I have seen that special education should not be scary for the students or the teachers. It is a conversation where the student expresses their needs, and the teacher meets them. It can be silly, such as a game to learn times tables or doing a wiggle dance to settle before a test. It can be sad, like when a student who has been trying so hard to improve fails another test. It can be frustrating, such as when three students need assistance at the same time and there are not enough assistants to help them all equally. But most of all it is rewarding. When the student goes from a D to a C because I differentiated their homework and helped them carefully while their classmates understood instantly. When the student who barely speaks laughs and continues your joke because I showed them it is ok to have fun. These moments make it worth the tears and frustration because you have helped a student in a new way that they can carry with them for life. Education is more than memorizing facts and numbers, it is the feeling of pride from watching the students succeed.

I have two absolute brats that I love dearly. There is Rory, my nine year old wirey and vocal chihuahua-poodle mix. We adopted her when I was eleven, after years of my desperate pleading for a dog. A family friend's dog got out and, she discovered two tiny puppies on Thanksgiving morning. Rory is my forever cuddle buddy and beggar. She howls when she wants something, from my food to her toys or simply for attention. We accidentally trained her to sing along to the Phantom of the Opera vocals, because we mocked her relentless "singing." However, if you sit on the couch and throw a blanket over yourself, Rory never hesitates to burrow under the covers and snuggle. This has gotten me through many sad Doctor Who episodes (from her namesake), as well as my parents divorce. While they fought loudly in another room, Rory sat in my lap and licked the tears of off my cheeks. She became my support system, as my human family separated. My other dog, Bolt, is my twenty year old stinky man. He was dumped near my house in the summer of 2014. We took him to our vet, who estimated that he was around 13-15 years old, making him 21-23 years old now. He also got x-rays, which showed most of his bones had been broken at some point; coupled with his aggression and fear towards men, we put together that his last owner was abusive. He has approximately three teeth now, severe cataracts, a permanent limp, and is mostly deaf, but he sprints around the house like a puppy. Bolt covers his face when I give him attention, as if he is too shy to be recognized, and hides in the pantry when given the option. Like Rory, he never hesitates to cuddle up on the couch. Unlike Rory, Bolt snores and his favorite place to sleep is atop my chest directly in front of my face. Bolt has helped my anxiety significantly. He loves being in laps, which grounds me and allows me to break out of my brain. While Rory and Bolt are two incomparable, wonderful, brilliant (mostly) dogs, I love them both equally. The hardest part about leaving for college was worrying about them. My Dad is a human and can comprehend that I will return in a few weeks. Rory and Bolt though? What if they thought I left them forever? Luckily, that has not been the case, with them happily greeting me every weekend I am home, and even when they visit me on campus.

It is a warm late summer day as I stroll across campus. I am walking from my class in the education building to meet some friends for lunch before dashing to the theatre to work on lines before rehearsal. My head is practically spinning as I think about making a lesson plan (my OWN lesson plan that I TEACH!), and smile as I realize I got here. Mercer is an incredible community where I feel connected to my peers, my friends, and my major. I am an elementary and special education major. I have been working in a classroom since fall semester of my sophomore year. I love working with students and connecting their lives to the course work. As a junior, I have begun teaching the classes which excited me further. It also terrifies me, because everything feels so real. I have had many anxiety attacks as I prepare to teach my first lesson. I manage this by reminding myself that I am doing well; I am not setting myself up for failure, nor am I going to fail my students. Many of my classmates feel similarly, and we have had movie nights and picnics to comfort each other, and share our feelings. Our cohort consists of seventeen people, so we are rather tight-knit and confide in each other frequently. I am also a theatre minor. I have danced my whole life, and performing feels as natural as breathing to me. Giving myself a creative outlet has immensely improved how I take care of my body and soul. I can step into someone else's life, while feeling my own emotions, and push everything out into the world. It allows my mind to become empty, to breathe and process. I have been cast as roles that are physically demanding as well; this lets me physicalize the emotions as well as keep my spirits up. I recently played Lord of the Underworld in Eurydice where I had to crouch and jump around like a toddler then run to wear stilts to march like a king. While I felt every muscle ache, I also was satisfied with my work. Mercer is a space where I know I will be supported in my work. My peers share the same excitement and anxiety about our future, which provides a comforting and safe space to collaborate. My theatre community is always ready to jump in and work as an ensemble so we all use our outlet to create. Because of these factors, I know that I have a healthy mind, body, and soul at my school.

My father has been my number one supporter since day one. He is a disabled veteran and has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. Education is an artform that I was drawn to through theatre. My senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree), where I have been placed in two classrooms for my major. Initially I was hesitant about special education because I was uncertain of what it could entail. But in my fieldwork, I have seen that special education should not be scary for the students or the teachers. It is a conversation where the student expresses their needs, and the teacher meets them. It can be silly, such as a game to learn times tables or doing a wiggle dance to settle before a test. It can be sad, like when a student who has been trying so hard to improve fails another test. It can be frustrating, such as when three students need assistance at the same time and there are not enough assistants to help them all equally. But most of all it is rewarding. When the student goes from a D to a C because I differentiated their homework and helped them carefully while their classmates understood instantly. When the student who barely speaks laughs and continues your joke because I showed them it is ok to have fun. These moments make it worth the tears and frustration because you have helped a student in a new way that they can carry with them for life. Education is more than memorizing facts and numbers, it is the feeling of pride from watching the students succeed.

It is a warm late summer day as I stroll across campus. I am walking from my class in the education building to meet some friends for lunch before dashing to the theatre to work on lines before rehearsal. My head is practically spinning as I think about making a lesson plan (my OWN lesson plan that I TEACH!), and smile as I realize I got here. Mercer is an incredible community where I feel connected to my peers, my friends, and my major. I am an elementary and special education major. I have been working in a classroom since fall semester of my sophomore year. I love working with students and connecting their lives to the course work. As a junior, I have begun teaching the classes which excited me further. It also terrifies me, because everything feels so real. I have had many anxiety attacks as I prepare to teach my first lesson. I manage this by reminding myself that I am doing well; I am not setting myself up for failure, nor am I going to fail my students. Many of my classmates feel similarly, and we have had movie nights and picnics to comfort each other, and share our feelings. Our cohort consists of seventeen people, so we are rather tight-knit and confide in each other frequently. I am also a theatre minor. I have danced my whole life, and performing feels as natural as breathing to me. Giving myself a creative outlet has immensely improved how I take care of my body and soul. I can step into someone else's life, while feeling my own emotions, and push everything out into the world. It allows my mind to become empty, to breathe and process. I have been cast as roles that are physically demanding as well; this lets me physicalize the emotions as well as keep my spirits up. I recently played Lord of the Underworld in Eurydice where I had to crouch and jump around like a toddler then run to wear stilts to march like a king. While I felt every muscle ache, I also was satisfied with my work. Mercer is a space where I know I will be supported in my work. My peers share the same excitement and anxiety about our future, which provides a comforting and safe space to collaborate. My theatre community is always ready to jump in and work as an ensemble so we all use our outlet to create. Because of these factors, I know that I have a healthy mind, body, and soul at my school.

My roommate and I live two different but equally stressful lives. She is a computer engineering major, who is constantly writing programs and welding projects while applying for internships. I am an elementary/special education major who balances my own coursework and classes with those of my students in addition to acting or working backstage. We also must find the time to eat, sleep, and enjoy college. Both of us have struggled with anxiety and depression, especially as our workloads and responsibilities increase. As we enter our junior year of college, this is sure to increase. But, we have a near daily routine to maintain our sanity. She walked into our bedroom to find me stressed and splatted on the floor with my noise cancelling headphones last November, and instead of judging, she joined me. We now jokingly call this "floor time," where we listen to a shared playlist full of classical music, soundscapes, and calming vibes and let gravity wear us down. This time usually occurs around three in the afternoon, when we are both done with classes, and allows us to hit reset on the day. We can think about nothing and allow our body to breathe with the comfort of each other without saying a word. While it may look similar to an infant's tummy time, we can escape our responsibilities long enough to refocus with a clear and calm mind. I have recently been diagnosed with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and my roommate and I both struggle with anxiety. This is to say, our minds are rarely quiet. My anxiety increases when I attempt to force calmness or an empty head, as it is near impossible. Floor time removes the pressure of productivity influenced relaxation. I can mindlessly scroll on my phone while wrapped in four blankets without guilt. My brain is not quiet, but occupied with thoughts that pass by without significance. If this stimulation is not enough, the shared playlist engages my brain as well Again, it is something to analyze without significance or consequences. My roommate is the reverse. She will listen to the playlist, allowing it to fill her brain fully. If that is not enough, she resorts to her phone to further engage. Clearing our mind does not mean emptying it out to nothingness. It means sorting through the clutter of the day, organizing it, and dusting it off by letting such thoughts fade to the background.

My roommate and I live two different but equally stressful lives. She is a computer engineering major, I am an elementary/special education major. Between classes and homework, we also must find the time to eat, sleep, and enjoy college. Both of us have struggled with anxiety and depression, especially as our workloads and responsibilities increase at the start of junior year. We have a near daily routine to maintain our sanity. She walked into our bedroom to find me stressed and splatted on the floor with my noise cancelling headphones last November, and instead of judging, she joined me. We now jokingly call this "floor time," where we listen to a shared playlist full of classical music, soundscapes, and calming vibes and let gravity wear us down. This time usually occurs around three in the afternoon, when we are both done with classes, and allows us to hit reset on the day. We can think about nothing and allow our body to breathe with the comfort of each other without saying a word. While it may look similar to an infant's tummy time, we can escape our responsibilities long enough to refocus with a clear and calm mind. Instagram: gen.has17

It is quiet inside the the water droplets. Floating within the little beads, is a mixture of minerals, ice, and life. As the vacuum of space dehydrates, the physical connection between these things is lost but not the significance of their perserverence. Barely a millimeter long tiny water bears, also known as tardigrades, happily float along through the universe. Project Tardigrades In Space (TARDIS) sent these little explorers into space, along with species of bacteria and plant seeds, to learn about their survivability in the extreme conditions space fosters. The result was that spores of bacteria and plant seeds could return to Earth and produce life, and water bears survived and thrived in the unknown. This is my favorite scientific discovery for a variety of reasons. Firstly, water bears are adorable and intriguing; we know so little about them as a species but continue to play with their capabilities. I like to imagine it is similar to enrichment that zoos provide for their animals, and that the water bears enjoy being part of such discoveries. I also love how even in the tiniest form, life continues to grow into new environments. Jurassic Park said it best: Life finds a way.

My father has been my number one supporter since day one. He is a disabled veteran and has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to raise me.I have danced ballet throughout my life. My dance studio annually performed the Nutcracker every December. When I was seven, my dance teacher cornered my Father and persuaded him to participate on stage with magic tricks as Godfather Drosselmyer. He never looked back, and we performed together for ten years. I helped him tweak his new magic ideas, telling him what read on stage and added to the story. He helped me with my dancing and (tried) to dance along side me as my partner. The long rehearsals and late nights were made better because my dad was there with me. My Father was also able to use his time to home school me. He primarily taught me math and science. He understood my neurodiversity, and adapted school accordingly. I needed tactile assignments and real-world application to understand these concepts. Many times, tests were taken in my favorite climbing tree to look at the effects of photosynthesis or at the local fish hatchery after counting the number of turtles in the pond. Because it I enjoyed learning in this way, I rarely stressed about grades or test scores and simply focused on learning the material. I am now a junior in college, with a major in Elementary and Special Education. I chose this major because of educators such as my Dad. He not only made learning fun, but also made sure that I knew that I could do it and I could learn even if it is hard. I want to share these feelings with my students, and let them have fun with their education. I want to transform my future school to look at learning through this lens.

My Dad has always been my number one supporter. Through my pre-college education, I was homeschooled my entire life. Though I was undiagnosed at the time, he understood my ADHD (attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder); school was a game, the lessons were levels, and I felt like I won every time. Beyond academics, my dance studio annually performed the Nutcracker every December. When I was seven, my dance teacher cornered my Father and persuaded him to participate on stage with magic tricks as Godfather Drosselmyer. He never looked back, and we performed together for ten years. He helped me with my dancing and (tried) to dance along side me as my partner. The long rehearsals and late nights were made better because my dad was there with me. With all of these happy memories and stories, one probably would not imagine that my Dad is a recovering alcoholic. When I was around six months old, he hit rock bottom and checked into a facility to begin his recovery center. I was too young to remember, but the first year of my life was spent hopping around family and friend's houses while my mother worked. While in the facility, my Dad was also diagnosed with a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. This forced him to retire early, and fully focus on his recovery as well as raising me. My Father primarily taught me math and science. He understood my neurodiversity, and adapted school accordingly. I needed tactile assignments and real-world application to understand these concepts. Many times, tests were taken in my favorite climbing tree to look at the effects of photosynthesis or at the local fish hatchery after counting the number of turtles in the pond. Because it I enjoyed learning in this way, I rarely stressed about grades or test scores and simply focused on learning the material. I am now a junior in college, with a major in Elementary and Special Education. I chose this major because of educators such as my Dad. He not only made learning fun, but also made sure that I knew that I could do it and I could learn even if it is hard. I want to share these feelings with my students, and let them have fun with their education. I want to transform my future school to look at learning through this lens.

My financial struggles began before my birth. My father is a disabled veteran. He has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis, characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer employable, it left enough time in his day to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. My father’s disability has caused financial strain but has not been hugely detrimental to our lives until recently. My parents divorced in 2019, which put stress on the availability of funds for my higher education. Additionally, the COVID-19 pandemic raised the price of tuition at Mercer, and it has grown to be beyond my scholarships and college funds. My father set up a college fund when I was born, and it grew until recently. I am about to enter my junior year of college, and the account is already near depleted with two years left of my degree. My uncle also set aside some money, but it is also near gone. I have already acquired and maintained every academic scholarship provided by Mercer University and am working to apply for outside scholarships. I also work two jobs, one working in the University Center’s gym and the other providing mentorship to underclassmen. Institutionally, I have already exhausted all financial resources available to me, hence my application for this scholarship. This scholarship would allow me to focus on my academics and apply for other scholarships to finish my education. Grand[master Nam K Hyong embodied the determination that I feel to succeed. Beyond myself, this scholarship would benefit my elementary-aged students. Macon’s school district is made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students are at or below the poverty line. Many of these students do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. If I can show them that I was able to complete a degree despite my struggles, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. The best future resources lie in the current youth’s minds, and I want them to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue the cycle throughout their lives. I am a future educator with a variety of goals that spread across my career. I want my students to feel comfortable asking questions, I want to incorporate the arts into my class, I want to ensure all my students pass their GSE's and Milestone exams (without that being the sole focus of the academic year). A specific short term goal is to become a fourth grade science teacher. As a student, science was my favorite subject for years because you could touch and see it in action. This passion was reignited when I was placed in a fifth grade science classroom during my sophomore year. The enthusiasm of hands-on activities compared to computer based assignments and the thrill of students enjoying education reminded me of why I became an educator. In my classes, I will teach the curriculum to my students, then discuss how these lessons impact the environment. How do humans affect the weather? Do machines change the air? Why are different animals changing their habitats? We can also discuss what we can do to make positive changes or negative changes, and why it is important to think about the long term impact of our actions. By introducing these concepts to my students, they will move forward and keep environmentalism in their minds. The future is young, and I want to raise them to protect their world. I will do this by showing them that it is possible, and I want to adapt my classroom to be adapt to student interests so they are truly able to enjoy learning. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can spread benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue that with my future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor.

I have two absolute brats that I love dearly. There is Rory, my nine year old wirey and vocal chihuahua-poodle mix. We adopted her when I was eleven, after years of my desperate pleading for a dog. A family friend's dog got out and, she discovered two tiny puppies on Thanksgiving morning. Rory is my forever cuddle buddy and beggar. She howls when she wants something, from my food to her toys or simply for attention. We accidentally trained her to sing along to the Phantom of the Opera vocals, because we mocked her relentless "singing." However, if you sit on the couch and throw a blanket over yourself, Rory never hesitates to burrow under the covers and snuggle. This has gotten me through many sad Doctor Who episodes (from her namesake), as well as my parents divorce. While they fought loudly in another room, Rory sat in my lap and licked the tears of off my cheeks. She became my support system, as my human family separated. My other dog, Bolt, is my twenty year old stinky man. He was dumped near my house in the summer of 2014. We took him to our vet, who estimated that he was around 13-15 years old, making him 21-23 years old now. He also got x-rays, which showed most of his bones had been broken at some point; coupled with his aggression and fear towards men, we put together that his last owner was abusive. He has approximately three teeth now, severe cataracts, a permanent limp, and is mostly deaf, but he sprints around the house like a puppy. Bolt covers his face when I give him attention, as if he is too shy to be recognized, and hides in the pantry when given the option. Like Rory, he never hesitates to cuddle up on the couch. Unlike Rory, Bolt snores and his favorite place to sleep is atop my chest directly in front of my face. Bolt has helped my anxiety significantly. He loves being in laps, which grounds me and allows me to break out of my brain. While Rory and Bolt are two incomparable, wonderful, brilliant (mostly) dogs, I love them both equally. The hardest part about leaving for college was worrying about them. My Dad is a human and can comprehend that I will return in a few weeks. Rory and Bolt though? What if they thought I left them forever? Luckily, that has not been the case, with them happily greeting me every weekend I am home, and even when they visit me on campus.

I am a future educator. My short term goal is to become a fourth grade science teacher. As a student, science was my favorite subject for years because you could touch and see it in action. This passion was reignited when I was placed in a fifth grade science classroom during my sophomore year. The enthusiasm of hands-on activities compared to computer based assignments and the thrill of students enjoying education reminded me of why I became an educator. In my classes, I will teach the curriculum to my students, then discuss how these lessons impact the environment. How do humans affect the weather? Do machines change the air? Why are different animals changing their habitats? We can also discuss what we can do to make positive changes or negative changes, and why it is important to think about the long term impact of our actions. By introducing these concepts to my students, they will move forward and keep environmentalism in their minds. The future is young, and I want to raise them to protect their world.

The best piece of financial advise I received is "Do not buy something until you can afford it twice." An example would be to not buy a five dollar coffee until you have ten dollars saved, or enough that you could buy it twice. This advice has guided me through budgeting and managing my own money, especially as I am learning to do so independently. As a college student, I have a meal plan and rarely eat out. If I do, I must specifically save to go out with my friends. We set a date that is far enough out that I will be able to pick up extra shifts at work to be able to have enough to buy double, or have saved enough to not take a large financial hit from such excursions. On the occasion I have not saved, I typically order the cheapest thing on the menu or split with a friend. This allows me to save money while still enjoying time out.

Standing at the front of the stage, the lights feel warm and I can see all of the dust floating through the theatre. I turn to my friends, and explain what count starts this new section of choreography. The theatre department is where I practice my leadership skills in a comfortable and fun way. This past year, I have played Rozencrantz in Hamlet and Lord of the Underworld in Eurydice. I have formed strong bonds with my castmates and directors by spending the weekly fifteen hours in rehearsal and beyond. There have been an influx of new thesbians this year, so I have been able to lead by example and help them gain confidence in front of an audience. I have also gained my own confidence, stepping into more leading roles, and that it is ok to not be perfect. I have also worked backstage this past year, working as crew, wardrobe, and assistant stage manager. As crew and wardrobe, I worked consistently from tech week through the performances for around six hours a day. I set props and costumes, applied makeup and hair dye to actors, and remained backstage to assist actors throughout the performers. I learned how to adapt to any situation, such as when a prop broke before its entrance or a costume was stained. As assistant stage manager, I organized actors, ensured different departments worked on track, invited schools to attend, and filled in whatever role was needed. I learned many skills, such as how to run a sound board, but also how to ask for help. I did not know how to do many of the jobs asked of me, so I leaned quickly and ask for assistance to ensure I did not let my pride hurt the work. I feel that both my fieldwork and my theatre work has helped me grow personally and professionally. Despite the fact that I spent double the hours in the theatre than I ever have in my dorm, I also have managed to keep a 4.0 as an Elementary and Special Education major. I practice a variety of my theatre skills in the classroom and feel that they make me a stronger teacher. I have been placed in two elementary schools (so far) for my major, where I attend twice a week for about eight hours. I have lead these classes in a variety of ways including classroom management, which has entailed everything from controlling student volume levels to breaking up a fist fight. I have also created fifth grade social studies assignments, graded a variety of work in 3-5 fifth grade classes, assisted students in their work, and taught a third grade math lesson. I have formed professional relationships with my fellow educators, and wonderful connections to my students. I have learned patience, adaptability, and individual and collaborative work ethics when assisting students with their work. Students have a variety of strengths that diversify the classroom, and it is my job to help students equally. How I help a third grader in a lesson telling time versus how I help a group of fifth graders with a social studies project. I have learned to not get frustrated when students act out, adapt my methods of teaching, and give students my best efforts to support them.

I have kept a 4.0 as an Elementary and Special Education major. I practice a variety of my theatre skills in the classroom and feel that they make me a stronger teacher. I have been placed in two elementary schools (so far) for my major, where I attend twice a week for about eight hours. I have lead these classes in a variety of ways including classroom management, which has entailed everything from controlling student volume levels to breaking up a fist fight. I have also created fifth grade social studies assignments, graded a variety of work in 3-5 fifth grade classes, assisted students in their work, and taught a third grade math lesson. I have formed professional relationships with my fellow educators, and wonderful connections to my students. I have learned patience, adaptability, and individual and collaborative work ethics when assisting students with their work. Students have a variety of strengths that diversify the classroom, and it is my job to help students equally. How I help a third grader in a lesson telling time versus how I help a group of fifth graders with a social studies project. I have learned to not get frustrated when students act out, adapt my methods of teaching, and give students my best efforts to support them. I want my students to feel supported in their academics as well as in their personal life.

Standing at the front of the stage, the lights feel warm and I can see all of the dust floating through the theatre. I turn to my friends, and explain what count starts this new section of choreography. The theatre department is where I practice my leadership skills in a comfortable and fun way. This past year, I have played Rozencrantz in Hamlet and Lord of the Underworld in Eurydice. I have formed strong bonds with my castmates and directors by spending the weekly fifteen hours in rehearsal and beyond. There have been an influx of new thesbians this year, so I have been able to lead by example and help them gain confidence in front of an audience. I have also gained my own confidence, stepping into more leading roles, and that it is ok to not be perfect. I have also worked backstage this past year, working as crew, wardrobe, and assistant stage manager. As crew and wardrobe, I worked consistently from tech week through the performances for around six hours a day. I set props and costumes, applied makeup and hair dye to actors, and remained backstage to assist actors throughout the performers. I learned how to adapt to any situation, such as when a prop broke before its entrance or a costume was stained. As assistant stage manager, I organized actors, ensured different departments worked on track, invited schools to attend, and filled in whatever role was needed. I learned many skills, such as how to run a sound board, but also how to ask for help. I did not know how to do many of the jobs asked of me, so I leaned quickly and ask for assistance to ensure I did not let my pride hurt the work. I feel that both my fieldwork and my theatre work has helped me grow personally and professionally. Despite the fact that I spent double the hours in the theatre than I ever have in my dorm, I also have managed to keep a 4.0 as an Elementary and Special Education major. I practice a variety of my theatre skills in the classroom and feel that they make me a stronger teacher. I have been placed in two elementary schools (so far) for my major, where I attend twice a week for about eight hours. I have lead these classes in a variety of ways including classroom management, which has entailed everything from controlling student volume levels to breaking up a fist fight. I have also created fifth grade social studies assignments, graded a variety of work in 3-5 fifth grade classes, assisted students in their work, and taught a third grade math lesson. I have formed professional relationships with my fellow educators, and wonderful connections to my students. I have learned patience, adaptability, and individual and collaborative work ethics when assisting students with their work. Students have a variety of strengths that diversify the classroom, and it is my job to help students equally. How I help a third grader in a lesson telling time versus how I help a group of fifth graders with a social studies project. I have learned to not get frustrated when students act out, adapt my methods of teaching, and give students my best efforts to support them.

Mary Shelley was an incredibly talented, colorful, and empowering woman. She fought misogyny within the publishing world, as well as in her private life. She also dealt with a plethora of tragic events beginning from a rather young age. Mary Shelley was a revolutionary academically and personally, and I admire her greatly. Mary Shelley was born to Mary Wollenstonecraft Shelley, who was another empowering writer. Wollenstonecraft wrote A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, where she stood for women's right to education and stated that women are not naturally inferior to men, but simply lack education and the knowledge. Tragically, Wollenstonecraft passed away in 1797, when Mary was only a few months old. Mary's father taught her to read and write her name by tracing the letters on her mother's gravestone. This began her career as a writer, which eventually led to the publishing of the first modern science-fiction novel, Frankenstein. Shelley struggled to find a publisher for her novel, where she was rejected over ten times before she adopted a male pen name. The book, which originally only printed a few hundred copies, was an instant success. However, it was not until 1832 that Shelley revealed herself as the author; even so her husband Percy Shelley attempted to steal the credit because he had helped his wife revise and edit her novel. Upon the passing of Percy and a distant uncle, Mary Shelley was given their inheritance and became financially independent. In her later years, continued to write until her death in 1851. Shelley lived a difficult but rewarding life, with her mother's empowerment and her own determination to succeed. I wish to accomplish similar goals, by demanding an equal playing field in education (a female dominated field that is historically discounted) and become a historical badass like Shelley.

Mary Shelley was an incredibly talented, colorful, and empowering woman. She fought misogyny within the publishing world, as well as in her private life. She also dealt with a plethora of tragic events beginning from a rather young age. Mary Shelley was a revolutionary academically and personally, and I admire her greatly. Mary Shelley was born to Mary Wollenstonecraft Shelley, who was another empowering writer. Wollenstonecraft wrote A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, where she stood for women's right to education and stated that women are not naturally inferior to men, but simply lack education and the knowledge. Tragically, Wollenstonecraft passed away in 1797, when Mary was only a few months old. Mary's father taught her to read and write her name by tracing the letters on her mother's gravestone. This began her career as a writer, which eventually led to the publishing of the first modern science-fiction novel, Frankenstein. Shelley struggled to find a publisher for her novel, where she was rejected over ten times before she adopted a male pen name. The book, which originally only printed a few hundred copies, was an instant success. However, it was not until 1832 that Shelley revealed herself as the author; even so her husband Percy Shelley attempted to steal the credit because he had helped his wife revise and edit her novel. Upon the passing of Percy and a distant uncle, Mary Shelley was given their inheritance and became financially independent. In her later years, continued to write until her death in 1851. Shelley lived a difficult but rewarding life, with her mother's empowerment and her own determination to succeed. I wish to accomplish similar goals, by demanding an equal playing field in education (a female dominated field that is historically discounted) and become a historical badass like Shelley.

My father has been my number one supporter since day one. He is a disabled veteran and has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. Education is an artform that I was drawn to through theatre. My senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree), where I have been placed in two classrooms for my major. Initially I was hesitant about special education because I was uncertain of what it could entail. But in my fieldwork, I have seen that special education should not be scary for the students or the teachers. It is a conversation where the student expresses their needs, and the teacher meets them. It can be silly, such as a game to learn times tables or doing a wiggle dance to settle before a test. It can be sad, like when a student who has been trying so hard to improve fails another test. It can be frustrating, such as when three students need assistance at the same time and there are not enough assistants to help them all equally. But most of all it is rewarding. When the student goes from a D to a C because I differentiated their homework and helped them carefully while their classmates understood instantly. When the student who barely speaks laughs and continues your joke because I showed them it is ok to have fun. These moments make it worth the tears and frustration because you have helped a student in a new way that they can carry with them for life. This past spring, I worked in a third-grade math class, where I worked with a variety of special education students who were placed in a general education classroom. I have helped students with a speech impediment gain confidence in answering questions aloud, a student with an undisclosed emotional-behavior disorder make a friend, and differentiate the whole class in a way that they could learn and collaborate. Beyond general education, I returned to my theatre to teach last summer. I was a camp counsellor who worked directly with the special needs students. D was a 12-year-old boy with an emotional behavior disorder and a reading/speech delay. At first, he hardly said a word and had loud meltdowns in classes. I was able to work with him and simplify scripts for him to say one line at a time and take breaks from his peers. Two weeks later, he read a Shakespearean sonnet to the class, but better yet he had made four friends. K was an 8-year-old girl with severe ADHD who frequently got overstimulated in class. As someone who also had ADHD, I was able to help her regulate her emotions and play games to calm down until she could rejoin her class and resume normal lessons. Lastly there was T, a 14-year-old genderfluid student who with autism that prevented her from participating in her favorite class due to anxiety and overstimulation. I helped her ease into lessons and stayed beside her, often playing silly games to show her mistakes are ok. She led an improv scene onstage and tightly hugged me with tears afterwards, because I was the first to tell her it was possible. I remember all my students and their accomplishments, but these are the ones to stick out in my mind. Education is more than memorizing facts and numbers, it is the feeling of pride from watching the students succeed.

Nobody despises standardized testing more than educators, particularly elementary school teachers. Standardized testing measures student's ability to memorize facts and rules and the ability to recall these facts and rules in a timed setting. It does not analyze how students have improved across the semester and school year, nor student's ability to problem solve in projects or writing assignments. Students are incredible and bright, with a multitude of skills and abilities beyond sitting to bubble in answers. Students should be given the option to create a project that is summative of the year. Some students are strong test takers, resulting in an accurate reflection of their mastery of the content. For others, a project would allow them to show their strengths and what stood out from the year. To ensure that students are being graded fairly, a board of teachers could review the project and have a set of questions the student should be able to answer. With this model, students can study how they need and demonstrate their skills confidently. An example of this model is how National History Day projects functions. Students are given the topic to center the project. They may write a paper, create a performance, make a documentary, design a website, or present an exhibit. They must answer questions regarding their category and demonstrate an understanding of the topic. Unlike NHD, students would not be pitted against each other in a competition. However, the this model places less pressure on students to conform to one single test. Moving away from standardized testing would be difficult, but so is changing any system. Changing the system of examination for students allows teachers to help their students prepare throughout the year. Overall, giving students options to grow provides a more holistic and accurate reading of their knowledge.

I have struggled with neurodivergency long before I knew the term for it. In my pre-school class, I was often in trouble for having too many wiggles and being unable to focus on the lesson at hand. My parents home-schooled me from kindergarten onwards, and had similar reprimands. While my father typically adapted, and let me walk around the kitchen or sit on the floor, my mother became frustrated when I could not sit at the table and concentrate. In addition to these struggles, I was painfully shy and refused to speak unless spoken to. My friendships consisted of finding people I liked, and quietly tagging along with them. I felt nervous and lonely in any given situation, and felt like I was always fighting an uphill battle to make any improvements. These symptoms eventually led to a diagnosis of attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), anxiety, and depression when I was nineteen. Though I have begun seeking help, it took me until my sophomore year of college to realize that I should not hide getting help. I wish therapy had been normalized at a younger age, so I could have asked for the help I needed. As an adult, I feel that therapy is accepted and even encouraged for many mental health struggles. But as a child, I did not have the vocabulary to describe how I felt or examples of how people felt better with therapy. I had no clue that it was even an option for people. I think that normalizing therapy for all ages, and explaining how school counsellors can support students would be a solution to how I felt.

Education is an artform that I was drawn to through theatre. My senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree), where I have been placed in two classrooms for my major. Initially I was hesitant about special education because I was uncertain of what it could entail. But in my fieldwork, I have seen that special education should not be scary for the students or the teachers. It is a conversation where the student expresses their needs, and the teacher meets them. It can be silly, such as a game to learn times tables or doing a wiggle dance to settle before a test. It can be sad, like when a student who has been trying so hard to improve fails another test. It can be frustrating, such as when three students need assistance at the same time and there are not enough assistants to help them all equally. But most of all it is rewarding. When the student goes from a D to a C because I differentiated their homework and helped them carefully while their classmates understood instantly. When the student who barely speaks laughs and continues your joke because I showed them it is ok to have fun. These moments make it worth the tears and frustration because you have helped a student in a new way that they can carry with them for life. This past spring, I worked in a third-grade math class, where I worked with a variety of special education students who were placed in a general education classroom. I have helped students with a speech impediment gain confidence in answering questions aloud, a student with an undisclosed emotional-behavior disorder make a friend, and differentiate the whole class in a way that they could learn and collaborate. Beyond general education, I returned to my theatre to teach last summer. I was a camp counsellor who worked directly with the special needs students. D was a 12-year-old boy with an emotional behavior disorder and a reading/speech delay. At first, he hardly said a word and had loud meltdowns in classes. I was able to work with him and simplify scripts for him to say one line at a time and take breaks from his peers. Two weeks later, he read a Shakespearean sonnet to the class, but better yet he had made four friends. K was an 8-year-old girl with severe ADHD who frequently got overstimulated in class. As someone who also had ADHD, I was able to help her regulate her emotions and play games to calm down until she could rejoin her class and resume normal lessons. Lastly there was T, a 14-year-old genderfluid student who with autism that prevented her from participating in her favorite class due to anxiety and overstimulation. I helped her ease into lessons and stayed beside her, often playing silly games to show her mistakes are ok. She led an improv scene onstage and tightly hugged me with tears afterwards, because I was the first to tell her it was possible. I remember all my students and their accomplishments, but these are the ones to stick out in my mind. Education is more than memorizing facts and numbers, it is the feeling of pride from watching the students succeed.

My spark emerged from my passion of theatre. The summer before senior year of high school, I interned at the Springer Theatre Academy. I did it because it made tuition cheaper for my four week camp, but I discovered a new passion: teaching. On the first day, I learned I would be working with a group of returning middle schoolers and I internally sighed. I expected attitudes, disinterest, and drama on and off stage. Instead I was greeted with a group of eager and enthusiastic students who completely changed my beliefs on education. Because they were all returning students, I was given freedom to lead classes rather than strictly keep them out of trouble. I lead musical theatre choreography, improv games, and acting techniques to this group. But there was one particular day that made me realize that teaching was my spark. It was the last full day before their presentation, and we were walking into our Musical Theatre class, affectionately called the “arena”. The smell of adrenaline and enthusiasm greeted me with a rush of heat from the previous class, as I made sure everyone made it in. I took to helping D and P, arguably the most flighty students, with waving a silk sheet to create the effect of a sunset. D was tired and growing frustrated at the movements. I carefully put my hands atop of hers, guiding her. The room was now full of sparkling blue reflections, as the light bounced off perfectly. Her face and hands relaxed, as she said a quiet “oh.” I felt a warmth in my chest and a smile on my face. I had gotten through to her without being harsh and patted myself on the back. The intro of the piece was incredibly jubilant and celebratory. I tried to swallow the lumps in my throat, as the pressure behind my eyes built, but to no avail; the pride for these kids was overwhelming, and they felt it too. The groups' lips quivered as they tried to keep singing in their broken voices. But despite the tears and sniffles, there was no sorrow. This was a culmination of three weeks of work, friendships, bridges, and love. As I stood in the midst of this, I reflected on these three weeks. I had never thought of myself as a “kids person”. Yet here I was, thinking back to even the first week when I helped them work together. I had watched them grow and learn for three weeks, and I wanted to see more. I realized, “I want to keep doing this.” It all clicked into place, and I decided that I wanted to be a teacher. My long term goal is to become a theatre teacher. Theatre guided me to education, as it was the first place I taught. I am achieving this goal in little ways. I participated in a research study involving teaching theatre to students ages 8-13. I am even continuing this research and expanding it to analyze the impacts of arts education on school attendance, class participation, and grades. Similar to science, theatre is adaptable. It demands to be felt and seen, similar to how students behave in a classroom. I will incorporate theatre terms, such as ensemble and stage directions, into my class and allow my students to perform for themselves. Arts incorporation is something I am still learning, but look forward to spreading into schools.

Art is not always meant to be pretty. This is not to say art cannot be. Art is fully capable of prettiness, and some pieces should pleasing to the eyes and the mind. But art is meant to make its viewer feel. It is meant to evoke an emotion, something that demands to be felt no matter if it is unpleasant. One example is the piece "Feel It Motherfuckers: Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate" by John Boskovich. It depicts a plastic box fan that was left to Boskovich by the family of his lover, Stephen Earabino, after Earabino's death. Earabino passed away during the HIV and AIDS (human immunodeficiency virus, acquired immunodeficiency syndrome) crisis. His family was deeply ashamed that he was a gay man, and even more ashamed that he lived "in sin" with his partner. They cleared his belongings while Boskovich was at work, leaving only a cheap plastic fan from the love of his life. It is raw, ugly, and the purest form of art that I can name. Links to view: https://64.media.tumblr.com/c278de90146ce8dd4d5431d7516160e8/b6d9b40f52f3e3e9-3e/s500x750/1be822f07426ad963bf1411f4eac4418215de64c.jpg https://64.media.tumblr.com/82cfc9b315bc3427c275e3d8af028077/b6d9b40f52f3e3e9-c2/s540x810/85ccde963e9ea25271a9df01b2948906cf092e2e.jpg

have often been asked, "How do you perform on stage? You seem so confident!" I almost always dodge the question, saying that I could not do it without my castmates and the crew. My answer is that I am not confident; I doubt every decision I make, onstage or off, and overthink every consequence I could face. But, I am not afraid. I move forward with my choice, and commit my whole being to it. Sometimes the task that is daunting is large, such as an audition in a room full of strangers. Sometimes it is tiny, such as walking across Chic Fil A to ask for a refill. The displeasure of being known is familiar to me, but I am able to combat it and remind myself to breathe. I am working on becoming more self assured and confident. I dream of the day I can take action, be it audition or restaurant refills, without questioning myself. But, I think bravery and confidence will remain synonyms to me, as I use both to embody their qualities.

My students give me hope. They are unbelievably resilient and determined, and incredibly kind. This past semester, I was placed in a third grade math class. These students began the year incredibly behind; second grade was online and first grade had been cut short, so the only full academic year previously was kindergarten. Half the time, classes were spent reteaching concepts from earlier grades or demonstrating simply skills that had been neglected. Regardless, they persisted. Even as they struggled through times tables and reading a clock, they kept trying. Undoubtably there were days where they nearly gave up, but with a bit of encouragement and individualized assistance, they were willing to give it another try. As I graded their assignments and tests, I noticed their progress. Only a few students had 90-100s, but many students were improving. Grades crept from 50s to 60s, and even 70s. While they were not achieving perfect grades, it was monumental. We celebrated each small victory like it was a gold medal, because it was. My generation seems to be one-track minded and focus on the losses. Their generation monitors progress over perfection by focusing on the wins. Their enthusiasm over the little things inspires me. It changed my own perspective on grades, and now I look at my improvements rather than the points I did not gain. Beyond academics, I appreciate being done with my work two minutes early or being able to take the long way from class to class. For third graders, this means they can doodle for a bit or stretch their legs longer. I want to regain this enthusiasm that my generation seems to have lost. Their generation still sees the good in the world, and has a greater appreciation for the experiences they share in the wake of chaos.

Education is an artform that I was drawn to through theatre. My senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree), where I have been placed in two classrooms for my major. Initially I was hesitant about special education because I was uncertain of what it could entail. But in my fieldwork, I have seen that special education should not be scary for the students or the teachers. It is a conversation where the student expresses their needs, and the teacher meets them. It can be silly, such as a game to learn times tables or doing a wiggle dance to settle before a test. It can be sad, like when a student who has been trying so hard to improve fails another test. It can be frustrating, such as when three students need assistance at the same time and there are not enough assistants to help them all equally. But most of all it is rewarding. When the student goes from a D to a C because I differentiated their homework and helped them carefully while their classmates understood instantly. When the student who barely speaks laughs and continues your joke because I showed them it is ok to have fun. These moments make it worth the tears and frustration because you have helped a student in a new way that they can carry with them for life. This past spring, I worked in a third-grade math class, where I worked with a variety of special education students who were placed in a general education classroom. I have helped students with a speech impediment gain confidence in answering questions aloud, a student with an undisclosed emotional-behavior disorder make a friend, and differentiate the whole class in a way that they could learn and collaborate. Beyond general education, I returned to my theatre to teach last summer. I was a camp counsellor who worked directly with the special needs students. D was a 12-year-old boy with an emotional behavior disorder and a reading/speech delay. At first, he hardly said a word and had loud meltdowns in classes. I was able to work with him and simplify scripts for him to say one line at a time and take breaks from his peers. Two weeks later, he read a Shakespearean sonnet to the class, but better yet he had made four friends. K was an 8-year-old girl with severe ADHD who frequently got overstimulated in class. As someone who also had ADHD, I was able to help her regulate her emotions and play games to calm down until she could rejoin her class and resume normal lessons. Lastly there was T, a 14-year-old genderfluid student who with autism that prevented her from participating in her favorite class due to anxiety and overstimulation. I helped her ease into lessons and stayed beside her, often playing silly games to show her mistakes are ok. She led an improv scene onstage and tightly hugged me with tears afterwards, because I was the first to tell her it was possible. I remember all my students and their accomplishments, but these are the ones to stick out in my mind. Education is more than memorizing facts and numbers, it is the feeling of pride from watching the students succeed.

My roommate and I live two different but equally stressful lives. She is a computer engineering major, who is constantly writing programs and welding projects while applying for internships. I am an elementary/special education major who balances my own coursework and classes with those of my students in addition to acting or working backstage. We also must find the time to eat, sleep, and enjoy college. Both of us have struggled with anxiety and depression, especially as our workloads and responsibilities increase. As we enter our junior year of college, this is sure to increase. But, we have a near daily routine to maintain our sanity. She walked into our bedroom to find me stressed and splatted on the floor with my noise cancelling headphones last November, and instead of judging, she joined me. We now jokingly call this "floor time," where we listen to a shared playlist full of classical music, soundscapes, and calming vibes and let gravity wear us down. This time usually occurs around three in the afternoon, when we are both done with classes, and allows us to hit reset on the day. We can think about nothing and allow our body to breathe with the comfort of each other without saying a word. While it may look similar to an infant's tummy time, we can escape our responsibilities long enough to refocus with a clear and calm mind. I have recently been diagnosed with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and my roommate and I both struggle with anxiety. This is to say, our minds are rarely quiet. My anxiety increases when I attempt to force calmness or an empty head, as it is near impossible. Floor time removes the pressure of productivity influenced relaxation. I can mindlessly scroll on my phone while wrapped in four blankets without guilt. My brain is not quiet, but occupied with thoughts that pass by without significance. If this stimulation is not enough, the shared playlist engages my brain as well Again, it is something to analyze without significance or consequences. My roommate is the reverse. She will listen to the playlist, allowing it to fill her brain fully. If that is not enough, she resorts to her phone to further engage. Clearing our mind does not mean emptying it out to nothingness. It means sorting through the clutter of the day, organizing it, and dusting it off by letting such thoughts fade to the background.

I am an Elementary/Special Education major, but a Theatre minor. Though I do not want a career in theatre, it is my favorite outlet to express myself and I plan to always have it be in my life. In the Fall of 2021, I took a playwriting class to fulfill the minor requirement. I soon discovered that this format was perfect for me; I could envision the actors in my mind, seeing the stage, while also expressing myself using words rather than purely visual storytelling. We wrote many scenes, most for fun rather than a grade. One in particular is entitled "Surf's Up," which I am submitting for your review. "Surf's Up" depicts three college fraternity boys at a country fair after a poorly timed joke. They are awaiting news about a child who was on the ride with them, who flew out of the ride after one of the boys quips "Hey, your seatbelt is loose." This darkly comedic piece was inspired by a similar (but not nearly as dangerous) story from my sophomore year of college. I went to a local carnival with my partner and some friends. We rode one ride, Surf's Up, which seats the riders on a pendulum that circles around on a flat plane. My partner and I were seated next to a very anxious middle schooler who was riding by himself. As the operator began the countdown before we whirled through the air, my partner turned to the middle schooler and remarked "Hey, your seatbelt looks loose." His thought process was that middle schooler would laugh and relax a bit. The poor middle schooler began hollering for his father, who was watching firmly for the ground. Luckily, our story ends with us getting cursed out by the father for scaring his son, rather than an ambulance and the authorities questioning, as in my scene. I feel this short ten-minute play depicts my sense of irony and sarcasm in a playful but significant way. The boys joke to cope with the impending terror of being arrested for a seemingly harmless remark. They do not know how to process those feelings of shame and blame. So they rely on each other, resulting in a fair amount of gallows humor. However (spoiler alert), the boy who took flight survives the story which gives the assurance of a happy ending. It is not my most academic work nor the work I spent the most time on, but it is the work I had the most fun writing.

Nobody despises standardized testing more than educators, particularly elementary school teachers. Standardized testing measures student's ability to memorize facts and rules and the ability to recall these facts and rules in a timed setting. It does not analyze how students have improved across the semester and school year, nor student's ability to problem solve in projects or writing assignments. Students are incredible and bright, with a multitude of skills and abilities beyond sitting to bubble in answers. Students should be given the option to test or to create a project that is summative of the curriculum and grade that the student has completed. Some students are strong test takers, and standardized testing plays to their strengths which results in an accurate reflection of their mastery of the content. However, for the other students, a project would allow them to show their strengths and what stood out from the year. This could be a presentation, a paper, a poster, a model, or whatever else the teacher deems fit. To ensure that students are being graded fairly with those who do not test, a board of teachers could review the project and have a set of questions the student should be able to answer. With this model, students can study how they need and demonstrate their skills confidently. An example of this model is how National History Day projects are reviewed. Students are given the topic that their project will center around. In past years, this has included many things such as exploration and encounters in America to frontiers in history. Students then choose to write a paper, create a performance, make a documentary, design a website, or present an exhibit. They must answer questions regarding their category and demonstrate an understanding of the topic. Unlike National History Day, students would not be pitted against each other in a competition. However, the National History Day model places less pressure on students to conform to one single test. Moving away from standardized testing would be difficult, but so is changing any system. Changing the system of examination for students allows teachers to help their students prepare throughout the year. Overall, giving students options to grow rather force adaptation provides a more holistic and accurate reading of their knowledge.

The last time my perspective changed was May 28, 2022. I was sitting in a studio, surrounded by other artists, for job training to teach at the Alliance Theatre. My camp coordinator asked for suggestions to keep in mind for our incoming students. One of my coworkers said "These students may not have the privilege of free time to learn." That stopped me in my mental tracks, as I had never considered having the space and energy, mentally and physically, that it takes to engage with new information. It seemed obvious, but somehow it had not crossed my mind. I now keep this in mind when my students seem tired or disinterested in the material. They may be too exhausted or mentally busy to learn something brand new right now, and that is ok. Their struggles may seem small to me, but that should not discount that they are challenging for the student. I want to foster an environment where students can come as they are, and learn how they need.

The first word I would choose to describe my values is kindness. Kindness is beyond being polite to people, it is genuinely caring about the response to "how are you?" It is having a conversation, but not waiting for your turn to talk and feeling empathy towards your partner. I feel that as an educator, kindness is an expectation that is rarely delivered. I have been kind in my fieldplacements when I teach and interact with my students. I will work with small groups, and if one student is particularly quiet or spoken over, I will go out of my way to have them recognized by their group members. Kindness is in the little bits of recognition in the classroom, because that is what has stuck with me as I have grown up. Another word to describe my values is determined. My generation was born in the wake of 9/11, grew up an increased awareness of social justice, and reached adulthood with a global pandemic. It would have been easy for to focus on all of the horrible news that surrounded me and say "why do my efforts to be kind matter?" But, instead I channeled that energy to being determined. I refuse to give up, whether my goal is personal or social. I have struggled to maintain a demanding major and minor but I continue to participate in both. Education and theatre are my passions, and I truly believe that my students will benefit from the skills that I have learned in theatre. Ensemble work, empathy, and self-perception have all emerged from the arts, and I am determined to pass that along. I struggled to name a third word for my values, so I asked two of my best friends. They actually named kindness and determination without my prompting, but listed curiosity as well. When I asked why, they told me that I am always seeking to know more. "You want to know more about us, so you ask to learn and engage with us. You want to know more about a subject, so you start reading scholarly articles for fun. You never want to stop learning about something." I considered this, and I agree. I want to know as much as I can to support my friends and grow as a person. Knowledge is power and I want to share it with those around me, whether it is my friends, my students, or my community.

My father has been my number one supporter since day one. He is a disabled veteran and has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. My Father primarily taught me math and science. Though I was undiagnosed at the time, he understood my ADHD (attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder) brain and that I needed tactile assignments and real-world application to understand these concepts. Many times, tests were taken in my favorite climbing tree to look at the effects of photosynthesis or at the local fish hatchery after counting the number of turtles in the pond. School was a game, the lessons were levels, and I felt like I won every time. I want to share these feelings with my students, and let them have fun with their education. Because it I enjoyed it, I rarely stressed about grades or test scores and simply focused on learning the material. I want to transform my future school to look at learning through this lens. Beyond academics, I have danced ballet throughout my life. My dance studio annually performed the Nutcracker every December. When I was seven, my dance teacher cornered my Father and persuaded him to participate on stage with magic tricks as Godfather Drosselmyer. He never looked back, and we performed together for ten years. I helped him tweak his new magic ideas, telling him what read on stage and added to the story. He helped me with my dancing and (tried) to dance along side me as my partner. The long rehearsals and late nights were made better because my dad was there with me.

I have struggled with neurodivergency long before I knew the term for it. In my pre-school class, I was often in trouble for having too many wiggles and being unable to focus on the lesson at hand. My parents home-schooled me from kindergarten onwards, and had similar reprimands. While my father typically adapted, and let me walk around the kitchen or sit on the floor, my mother became frustrated when I could not sit at the table and concentrate. In addition to these struggles, I was painfully shy and refused to speak unless spoken to. My friendships consisted of finding people I liked, and quietly tagging along with them. I felt nervous and lonely in any given situation, and felt like I was always fighting an uphill battle to make any improvements. It took until my sophomore year of college to finally understand why I felt like this constantly. Attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) was the root of my problems with focus and my constant need for engagement. I also struggle with ADHD-induced anxiety and depression, from living without treatment for nineteen years. Suddenly, it was not because I was broken or lost; my brain literally does not work in the way I tried to force it to. I entered college with an elementary/special education major. Initially, this was because I love working with kids and teaching is a passion of mine. However, this seems to be only the surface of a deeper and more complex reasoning. I love connecting with my students, and discovering how they learn. I never want my students to feel trapped by their own mind, so I want to provide the tools that they need to feel confident learning. I also want to incorporate movement in my classroom, so everyone can wake up and get their excess energy out in a productive way. This may include stretches or fidget toys or something new entirely. My goal is to cater to all of my student's needs and allow them to feel loved and accepted in my class. I have broken free of my shyness and even perform onstage regularly. This has allowed me to strengthen the friendships with the people I followed in my early years, and open up about my struggles. They have also shared their feelings, and we have connected with our mental health journeys. Neurodivergency feels isolating, but is rarely as "other" as it can feel. By giving myself this grace, I understand that everyone has a struggle. I am not alone, and I want to spread that into the world.

My roommate and I live two different but equally stressful lives. She is a computer engineering major, who is constantly writing programs and welding projects while applying for internships. I am an elementary/special education major who balances my own coursework and classes with those of my students in addition to acting or working backstage. We also must find the time to eat, sleep, and enjoy college. Both of us have struggled with anxiety and depression, especially as our workloads and responsibilities increase. As we enter our junior year of college, this is sure to increase. There are a multitude of study skills that we use, from flash cards to practice problems; they are effective but can add to our daily stresses. But, we have a near daily routine to maintain our sanity. She walked into our bedroom to find me stressed and splatted on the floor with my noise cancelling headphones last November, and instead of judging, she joined me. We now jokingly call this "floor time," where we listen to a shared playlist full of classical music, soundscapes, and calming vibes and let gravity wear us down. This time usually occurs around three in the afternoon, when we are both done with classes, and allows us to hit reset on the day. We can think about nothing and allow our body to breathe with the comfort of each other without saying a word. While it may look similar to an infant's tummy time, we can escape our responsibilities long enough to refocus with a clear and calm mind. By using this time to recharge, we are able to focus better on out work and have higher productivity. We both noticed that we make fewer errors and retain the material better.

My father has been my number one supporter since day one. He is a disabled veteran and has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis. It is characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord, which typically flares up with stress and age. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. My Father primarily taught me math and science. Though I was undiagnosed at the time, he understood my ADHD (attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder) brain and that I needed tactile assignments and real-world application to understand these concepts. Many times, tests were taken in my favorite climbing tree to look at the effects of photosynthesis or at the local fish hatchery after counting the number of turtles in the pond. School was a game, the lessons were levels, and I felt like I won every time. I want to share these feelings with my students, and let them have fun with their education. Because it I enjoyed it, I rarely stressed about grades or test scores and simply focused on learning the material. I want to transform my future school to look at learning through this lens. Beyond academics, I have danced ballet throughout my life. My dance studio annually performed the Nutcracker every December. When I was seven, my dance teacher cornered my Father and persuaded him to participate on stage with magic tricks as Godfather Drosselmyer. He never looked back, and we performed together for ten years. I helped him tweak his new magic ideas, telling him what read on stage and added to the story. He helped me with my dancing and (tried) to dance along side me as my partner. The long rehearsals and late nights were made better because my dad was there with me.

Education is an artform that I was drawn to through theatre. My senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to teach at my theatre and dance studio, where I fell in love with working with students. Working with ages 3-14 made me realize that the passion that these students had for creative expression and performance was the same passion I shared for teaching. I began attending Mercer University with a Holistic Child (Elementary/Special Education dual degree), where I have been placed in two classrooms for my major. Initially I was hesitant about special education because I was uncertain of what it could entail. But in my fieldwork, I have seen that special education should not be scary for the students or the teachers. It is a conversation where the student expresses their needs, and the teacher meets them. It can be silly, such as a game to learn times tables or doing a wiggle dance to settle before a test. It can be sad, like when a student who has been trying so hard to improve fails another test. It can be frustrating, such as when three students need assistance at the same time and there are not enough assistants to help them all equally. But most of all it is rewarding. When the student goes from a D to a C because I differentiated their homework and helped them carefully while their classmates understood instantly. When the student who barely speaks laughs and continues your joke because I showed them it is ok to have fun. These moments make it worth the tears and frustration because you have helped a student in a new way that they can carry with them for life. This past spring, I worked in a third-grade math class, where I worked with a variety of special education students who were placed in a general education classroom. I have helped students with a speech impediment gain confidence in answering questions aloud, a student with an undisclosed emotional-behavior disorder make a friend, and differentiate the whole class in a way that they could learn and collaborate. Beyond general education, I returned to my theatre to teach last summer. I was a camp counsellor who worked directly with the special needs students. D was a 12-year-old boy with an emotional behavior disorder and a reading/speech delay. At first, he hardly said a word and had loud meltdowns in classes. I was able to work with him and simplify scripts for him to say one line at a time and take breaks from his peers. Two weeks later, he read a Shakespearean sonnet to the class, but better yet he had made four friends. K was an 8-year-old girl with severe ADHD who frequently got overstimulated in class. As someone who also had ADHD, I was able to help her regulate her emotions and play games to calm down until she could rejoin her class and resume normal lessons. Lastly there was T, a 14-year-old genderfluid student who with autism that prevented her from participating in her favorite class due to anxiety and overstimulation. I helped her ease into lessons and stayed beside her, often playing silly games to show her mistakes are ok. She led an improv scene onstage and tightly hugged me with tears afterwards, because I was the first to tell her it was possible. I remember all my students and their accomplishments, but these are the ones to stick out in my mind. Education is more than memorizing facts and numbers, it is the feeling of pride from watching the students succeed.

Education is a toolkit for life and I want to teach my students how to use it. I attend Mercer University with a major in Elementary and Special Education. As part of my program's requirements, each semester I am placed in a local elementary school to observe the cooperating teacher (CT) and assist teaching their class, to prepare for my own future classroom and students. So far, I have been placed in a third grade math class and a fifth grade science and social studies class. In these two classes, I have seen incredibly intelligent young minds and amazing determination. However, despite the abilities of these students, many of them do not care about their education and do not give school their full attention. Macon’s school district is made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students (often more) are at or below the poverty line. The majority of them do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. In recent years, I have faced similar struggles; my father is a disabled veteran, unable to work, and my college account has run dry. This has made college difficult for me. However, I am determined to complete my degree and enter the world as a teacher. If I can show my students that I was able to complete my higher education despite my financial struggles, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. They have the most wonderfully fresh ideas and positive impacts, which is what the world needs. The best future resides the minds of the current youth, and I want my students to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue that cycle throughout their lives. These students are capable of breaking the systemic cycle of poverty they face, especially if a stubborn and kind teacher assists them. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can extend the benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue sharing my knowledge and resources with my current and future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor.

I would buy my textbooks. I am very lucky to only need two for the upcoming semester, but in total they cost around $300. The rest I would put into my savings account until September 1, which is when my first rent bill is due. I am lucky to have an on-campus apartment for the next semester, but rent is $840/month. I am working two jobs to support myself and am not in danger of being kicked out, but money is tight. At one job, I work ten hours a week advising underclassmen and creating interactive workshops to educate them on their resources; I also work another ten hours a week cleaning and providing customer service in the university fitness center. I will be taking 16 credit hours, and an additional two credit hours with the addition of a theatre practicum course mid-semester. I also work seven hours a week in a school to fulfill graduation requirements for the education major. I am lucky to have my father to assist, but he is a disabled veteran and unable to work. With $1000, I would be able to breathe a bit easier and save for the future rather than spending immediately.

Education is a toolkit for life and I want to teach my students how to use it. I attend Mercer University with a major in Elementary and Special Education. As part of my program's requirements, each semester I am placed in a local elementary school to observe the cooperating teacher (CT) and assist teaching their class, to prepare for my own future classroom and students. So far, I have been placed in a third grade math class and a fifth grade science and social studies class. In these two classes, I have seen incredibly intelligent young minds and amazing determination. However, despite the abilities of these students, many of them do not care about their education and do not give school their full attention. Macon’s school district is made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students (often more) are at or below the poverty line. The majority of them do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. In recent years, I have faced similar struggles; my father is a disabled veteran, unable to work, and my college account has run dry. This has made college difficult for me. However, I am determined to complete my degree and enter the world as a teacher. If I can show my students that I was able to complete my higher education despite my financial struggles, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. They have the most wonderfully fresh ideas and positive impacts, which is what the world needs. The best future resides the minds of the current youth, and I want my students to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue that cycle throughout their lives. These students are capable of breaking the systemic cycle of poverty they face, especially if a stubborn and kind teacher assists them. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can extend the benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue sharing my knowledge and resources with my current and future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor.

Education is a toolkit for life and I want to teach my students how to use it. I attend Mercer University with a major in Elementary and Special Education. As part of my program's requirements, each semester I am placed in a local elementary school to observe the cooperating teacher (CT) and assist teaching their class, to prepare for my own future classroom and students. So far, I have been placed in a third grade math class and a fifth grade science and social studies class. In these two classes, I have seen incredibly intelligent young minds and amazing determination. However, despite the abilities of these students, many of them do not care about their education and do not give school their full attention. Macon’s school district is made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students (often more) are at or below the poverty line. The majority of them do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. In recent years, I have faced similar struggles; my father is a disabled veteran, unable to work, and my college account has run dry. This has made college difficult for me. However, I am determined to complete my degree and enter the world as a teacher. If I can show my students that I was able to complete my higher education despite my financial struggles, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. They have the most wonderfully fresh ideas and positive impacts, which is what the world needs. The best future resides the minds of the current youth, and I want my students to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue that cycle throughout their lives. These students are capable of breaking the systemic cycle of poverty they face, especially if a stubborn and kind teacher assists them. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can extend the benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue sharing my knowledge and resources with my current and future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor.

Kindness is beyond being polite to people, it is genuinely caring about the response to "how are you?" It is having a conversation, but not waiting for your turn to talk and feeling empathy towards your partner. Generosity is offering this to whomever you can. I feel that as an educator, kindness is an expectation that is rarely delivered. I want to deliver this as often as I can in my classes. I have been kind in my field-placements when I teach and interact with my students. I will work with small groups, and if one student is particularly quiet or spoken over, I will go out of my way to have them recognized by their group members. I do this a few times in the class period, allowing the group dynamic to improve and the group to become more appreciative of each other. They begin to recognize each other, acknowledging their work and offering to help when need be. The students become more kind and offer this to each other generously. That is the most important lesson that I have taught. Generosity is in the little bits of recognition in the classroom, because that is what has stuck with me as I have grown up.

The first word I would choose to describe my values is kindness. Kindness is beyond being polite to people, it is genuinely caring about the response to "how are you?" It is having a conversation, but not waiting for your turn to talk and feeling empathy towards your partner. I feel that as an educator, kindness is an expectation that is rarely delivered. I have been kind in my field-placements when I teach and interact with my students. I will work with small groups, and if one student is particularly quiet or spoken over, I will go out of my way to have them recognized by their group members. Kindness is in the little bits of recognition in the classroom, because that is what has stuck with me as I have grown up. I am also determined. My generation was born in the wake of 9/11, grew up an increased awareness of social justice, and reached adulthood with a global pandemic. It would have been easy for to focus on all of the horrible news that surrounded me and say "why do my efforts to be kind matter?" But, instead I channeled that energy to being determined. I refuse to give up, whether my goal is personal or social. I have struggled to maintain a demanding major and minor but I continue to participate in both. Education and theatre are my passions, and I truly believe that my students will benefit from the skills that I have learned in theatre. Ensemble work, empathy, and self-perception have all emerged from the arts, and I am determined to pass that along.

My father is a disabled veteran. He has a rare condition called Mollaret's meningitis, characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, and it forced him to retire at the age of 37 due to its flare-ups. Left unemployable, he began receiving stipends from the Veterans Association. This was just before I was born and during my early years, I remember the frequent flare-ups, with my toddler self wondering why the doctors were always at my home. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. As a teacher, there is nothing more valuable than education. Knowledge is beyond power, it is infinite with its potential and resources. As an educator, I use the determination my father instilled in me to encourage my students. This is not an easy profession, but it is the best thing to happen to me. Watching people learn is beautiful; watching a student's wonder as they connect the dots is beyond words to me. My students are as powerful as their education allows, so I provide the most knowledge possible. Macon’s school district is made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students are at or below the poverty line. Many of my students do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. If I can show them that I was able to complete a degree despite my struggles, personal and financial, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. The best future resources lie in the current youth’s minds, and I want them to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue the cycle throughout their lives. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can extend the benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue that with my future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor.

1. I deserve this scholarship because I have no idea what to do with it. Sure, the responsible answer is "for school," but how? Tuition, books, housing? What if I do not want to? What if I want this money to go to a cute new rug for my room over next month's rent? Who can stop me? I deserve this money and the chaotic freedom it brings me. 2. No, I do not think I will. What have you done for me? Exactly. Go away now. 3. I have overcome saying the word "crayon" properly. Somehow, it becomes "crown" when I say it. This cursed c-word has a southern twang to it, further worsening my pronunciation. It is my linguistic enemy. I was discussing different writing instruments with my friend. The c-word had come up, to my dismay. In this heated debate, I remarked how the small size of "crayons" fit perfectly in my hand and gasped. This little victory was short lived, as I could not replicate it, but I have done it at least once in my life.

I am an Elementary/Special Education major at Mercer University on the Macon campus. Part of my program includes field-placement in local elementary schools, where we are assigned to a teacher to observe and assist their different classes. Macon’s public schools are made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students are at or below the poverty line. Many of the students do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. One of my students, a first grader, told me he will join the military to pay for school. I have experienced similar struggles, as I come from an economically disadvantaged family. If I can show them that I was able to complete a degree despite my struggles, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. They are capable and they are brilliant, just simply lacking the representation and tools to propel them forwards. The best future resources lie in the current youth’s minds, and I want them to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue the cycle throughout their lives. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can extend the benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue that with my future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor. Something I am currently doing to impact my students and give them powerful tools is theatre. Last fall, I assisted with a research study that taught students ages 8-13 theatre skills. This included improvisation, stage directions, and ensemble work, where the students wrote, directed, and performed a scene. I am continuing this research, now studying how performing arts impact school attendance, class participation, and grades. By giving students the tools of self expression and creativity, they are invited to bloom into the world. They can enter any field with a collaborative spirit and determination to improve themselves and those around them. I know this because that is what the performing arts allowed me to do. They gave me a voice and the bravery to use it. I want my students to feel the same strength and accomplish anything.

One thing that I have achieved in my life is saying the word "crayon" properly. To many, this sounds like a silly accomplishment. I have no speech impediments, mouth irregularities, or language barriers. Yet 9/10, the word "crayon" becomes "crown" when I say it. Despite being born and raised in middle Georgia, I do not have a southern accent on most words; this cursed c-word is one of the few that has a twang to it, further worsening my pronunciation. It is my linguistic enemy, but I have overcome it once. I was discussing different writing instruments with my friend, debating which feels best in the hand. The c-word had come up a few times, much to my dismay. However, in this heated debate, I remarked how the small size of "crayons" fit perfectly in my hand and gasped. I had said it correctly! This little victory was short lived, as I could not replicate it, but I have done it at least once in my life. I would like to jump off of a bridge with my friends. I am sure you the reader have heard the phrase "If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?" My answer is "If it is the bridge just off the North Jetty in Nokomis, Florida, YES!" It is about 20 feet above the water, which is just deep enough to fade deep green-blue. Driving by it on vacation, 10-year-old me was desperate to try, but my parents vetoed me and told me the common phrase. My goal as an adult is to plan a spring break trip with my friends, and lead the group into the plunge!

Respect and empathy are synonyms to me. This means that no matter who you are, I will treat you as an equal. I give my kindergarten students the same level of respect that I give adults, intently listening to what they tell me; I give adults the same level of empathy I give five year olds, offering emotional support. I use different vocabulary between the groups, but I do not treat them differently. The reason behind this is that the upset caused by a scraped knee feels the same as pain caused by a breakup. To each person, that is the biggest pain that they have experienced, and it should not be belittled. My job is to understand that, and provide the best support I can, be it a hug, a cup of coffee, or simply a listening ear. I am a deeply feeling person, and I am impacted when other people are suffering. I want to be a beacon of stability across ages and no matter the problem, providing equal amounts of respect and empathy.

"I'd rather have 30 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special." Steel Magnolias, Robert Harling. In my junior year of high school, my theatre camp did sections of Steel Magnolias for our performance. I played Shelby which was the first time I was given a principle role, even if it was only for a few scenes. Though I could not relate to Shelby's desire to have a baby in the face of a chronic illness, her determination struck me. Throughout my life I have struggled with anxiety, constantly asking "what if it goes wrong?" As a result, I often held myself back from opportunities that would help me grow and feel the acceptance I craved. After reading this line for the first time, I realized that it was true. I was tired of letting life pass me by in the safe zone, and decided to start chipping away at my comfort zone. Four years later, I can confidently say I have had my ten minutes of wonderful and beyond. I have found joy through a disrupted college experience (due to the COVID 19 pandemic), found new friends, and confidently taught in a classroom setting. I am determined for my life to be filled with small minutes of wonderful over the entirety of nothing special.

Cooking is a wonderful (and necessary) hobby for me. I am not Gordon Ramsey, nor do I strive to be. It is something that I do for myself to replenish my body and eat delicious foods. When I cook, I put on my grandma's apron from when she was my age, and flip through the Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook to find my dinner. Mrs. Weasley's Soda Bread and Kreacher's French Onion Soup pair perfectly, as do Hagrid's Teacakes and Aunt Petunia's Biscuits. The fictional dishes slowly become a reality as I chop, slice, and stir. I also refuse to cook in silence, and usually put on a Disney playlist to serenade my dogs with. They beg for scraps, to which I usually concede to, while Lady and the Tramp blasts from my phone. Then, as everything is left to boil, bake, or steam, we have a miniature dance party. As silly as we look, it is a joyful time where I can forget about life for a while and inhale the smell of spices blending. Then, as the timer goes off, I serve myself a plate. It may not look Instagram-worthy, but it tastes wonderful anyways. I put a crumb or two in the dog bowl, and mime shaking salt and pepper atop it, and sit at the table to enjoy my hard work.

My roommate and I live two different but equally stressful lives. She is a computer engineering major, who is constantly writing programs and welding projects while applying for internships. I am an elementary/special education major who balances my own coursework and classes with those of my students in addition to acting or working backstage. We also must find the time to eat, sleep, and enjoy college. Both of us have struggled with anxiety and depression, especially as our workloads and responsibilities increase. As we enter our junior year of college, this is sure to increase. But, we have a near daily routine to maintain our sanity. She walked into our bedroom to find me stressed and splatted on the floor with my noise cancelling headphones last November, and instead of judging, she joined me. We now jokingly call this "floor time," where we listen to a shared playlist full of classical music, soundscapes, and calming vibes and let gravity wear us down. This time usually occurs around three in the afternoon, when we are both done with classes, and allows us to hit reset on the day. We can think about nothing and allow our body to breathe with the comfort of each other without saying a word. While it may look similar to an infant's tummy time, we can escape our responsibilities long enough to refocus with a clear and calm mind.

I have often been asked, "How do you perform on stage? You seem so confident!" I almost always dodge the question, saying that I could not do it without my castmates and the crew. My answer is that I am not confident; I doubt every decision I make, onstage or off, and overthink every consequence I could face. But, I am not afraid. I move forward with my choice, and commit my whole being to it. Sometimes the task that is daunting is large, such as an audition in a room full of strangers. Sometimes it is tiny, such as walking across Chic Fil A to ask for a refill. The displeasure of being known is familiar to me, but I am able to combat it and remind myself to breathe. I am working on becoming more self assured and confident. I dream of the day I can take action, be it audition or restaurant refills, without questioning myself. But, I think bravery and confidence will remain synonyms to me, as I use both to embody their qualities.

My senior year of high school, life seemed perfect. I was cast as a lead at my dance studio, I was teaching classes at my theatre, I was planning the best summer ever with my best friends, and I had gotten into every college I had applied to. Sitting in the English 1102 class I was dual enrolled in, the professor mentioned that we may have an extra week of spring break, and we all expressed our excitement. As one can imagine, this was March 2020. From there began the announcements: performance postponed until further notice, classes virtual for two weeks, travel is temporarily halted. Everything in my seemingly perfect life crashed around me, especially as my immunocompromised Father was forced out of retirement to assist in the healthcare field. Two years later, I have a new definition of perfect: fictional. Perfect is not reality, nor should I strive for it. While I still grieve my graduation, senior performances, and lost memories, I have an appreciation for the smaller things in my life. I look forward to picnics outside with my friends, and I am thankful to see their faces in person rather than on zoom. I enjoy rehearsals rather than only the performance. I focus on the time I spend with my students instead of only seeing their work. Things I brushed by two years ago have become my most treasured moments.

As an educator, my students give me hope. They are unbelievably resilient and determined, while also being incredibly kind. This past semester, I was placed in a third grade math class for my program. These students began the year incredibly behind; second grade was online and first grade had been cut short, so the only full academic year previously was kindergarten. Half the time, classes were spent reteaching concepts from earlier grades or demonstrating simply skills that had been neglected. Regardless, they persisted. Even as they struggled through times tables and reading a clock, they kept trying. Undoubtably there were days where they nearly gave up, but with a bit of encouragement and individualized assistance, they were willing to give it another try. As I graded their assignments and tests, I noticed their progress. Only a few students had 90-100s, but many students were improving. Grades crept from 50s to 60s, and even 70s. While they were not achieving perfect grades, it was monumental. We celebrated each small victory like it was a gold medal, because it was. My generation seems to be one-track minded and focus on the losses. Their generation monitors progress over perfection by focusing on the wins. Their enthusiasm over the little things inspires me. It changed my own perspective on grades, and now I look at my improvements rather than the points I did not gain. Beyond academics, I appreciate being done with my work two minutes early or being able to take the long way from class to class. For third graders, this means they can doodle for a bit or stretch their legs longer. I want to regain this enthusiasm that my generation seems to have lost. Their generation still sees the good in the world, and has a greater appreciation for the experiences they share in the wake of chaos.

Moving into a dorm, an entirely new set of friends, and surviving your first midterms week are among the most commonly listed struggles of starting college. These are not to be discredited, and I have certainly experienced them as well. However, none of these compare to my stress regarding affording college. My largest obstacle is is the cost of college, particularly in the wake of unexpected life events. As of right now, my college fund will empty before my graduation, leaving me to take out loans to complete my degree. As an education major, it is unlikely that I will be able to pay off such loans before my retirement, leaving me to wonder if my higher education can be completed due to financial insecurity. However, I believe it is worth it and I will share my story with my future students to inspire them to seek out the best education possible. My financial struggles began before my birth. My father is a disabled veteran. He has a condition called Mollaret's meningitis, characterized by recurrent or chronic inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord. He acquired this disease when he was working as an Army doctor, forcing him to retire early. Because my father was no longer able to work, he used this newfound time to homeschool me. My father always emphasized the importance of education and determination; I have carried these values through my life and into the lives of the students I work with as part of my degree. My father’s disability has caused financial strain but has not been hugely detrimental to our lives until recently. My parents divorced in 2019, which put stress on the availability of funds for my higher education. My mother has since not contributed to my college funds nor any life costs (doctor’s appointments, car payments, etc). Additionally, the COVID-19 pandemic raised the price of tuition at Mercer, and it has grown to be beyond my scholarships and college funds. My father set up a college account when I was born, and it grew until recently. I am about to enter my junior year of college, and the account is already near depleted. I have already acquired and maintained every academic scholarship provided by Mercer University and am working to apply for outside scholarships. I also work two jobs, one working in the University Center’s gym and the other providing mentorship to underclassmen. Beyond myself, this scholarship would benefit my elementary-aged students. Macon’s school district is made up entirely of Title I schools, meaning at least 40% of students are at or below the poverty line. Many of them do not see college as an option for them, even as young as second grade. If I can show them that I was able to complete a degree despite my struggles, I feel that I can inspire them to do the same. The best future resources lie in the current youth’s minds, and I want them to apply themselves in whatever ways they can. I want to spread my passions and knowledge, and have my students continue the cycle throughout their lives. I will face obstacles outside of finance as I further enter the adult world, but by alleviating costs from my worries I can extend the benefits beyond myself. I remember my father teaching me at the kitchen table telling me to share whatever I have, however little it may be. I want to continue that with my future students, and this scholarship would allow me to do that with greater fervor.

My short term goal is to become a fourth grade science teacher. As a student, science was my favorite subject for years because you could touch and see it in action. This passion was reignited when I was placed in a fifth grade science classroom during my sophomore year. The enthusiasm of hands-on activities compared to computer based assignments and the thrill of students enjoying education reminded me of why I became an educator. I plan to achieve this by incorporating science into all of my field-placements until graduation. Science is adaptable; English Language Arts can include scientific readings and reasonings; Social Studies can discuss historical and modern inventions and innovators; Math is the base of many scientific applications. No matter where I teach, I will include the values I have found in science. My long term goal is to become a theatre teacher. Theatre guided me to education, as it was the first place I taught. I am achieving this goal in little ways. I participated in a research study involving teaching theatre to students ages 8-13. I am even continuing this research and expanding it to analyze the impacts of arts education on school attendance, class participation, and grades. Similar to science, theatre is adaptable. It demands to be felt and seen, similar to how students behave in a classroom. I will incorporate theatre terms, such as ensemble and stage directions, into my class and allow my students to perform for themselves. Arts incorporation is something I am still learning, but look forward to spreading into schools.

My spark emerged from my passion of theatre. The summer before senior year of high school, I interned at the Springer Theatre Academy. I did it because it made tuition cheaper for my four week camp, but I discovered a new passion: teaching. On the first day, I learned I would be working with a group of returning middle schoolers and I internally sighed. I expected attitudes, disinterest, and drama on and off stage. Instead I was greeted with a group of eager and enthusiastic students who completely changed my beliefs on education. Because they were all returning students, I was given freedom to lead classes rather than strictly keep them out of trouble. I lead musical theatre choreography, improv games, and acting techniques to this group. But there was one particular day that made me realize that teaching was my spark. It was the last full day before their presentation, and we were walking into our Musical Theatre class, affectionately called the “arena”. The smell of adrenaline and enthusiasm greeted me with a rush of heat from the previous class, as I made sure everyone made it in. I took to helping D and P, arguably the most flighty students, with waving a silk sheet to create the effect of a sunset. D was tired and growing frustrated at the movements. I carefully put my hands atop of hers, guiding her. The room was now full of sparkling blue reflections, as the light bounced off perfectly. Her face and hands relaxed, as she said a quiet “oh.” I felt a warmth in my chest and a smile on my face. I had gotten through to her without being harsh and patted myself on the back. The intro of the piece was incredibly jubilant and celebratory. I tried to swallow the lumps in my throat, as the pressure behind my eyes built, but to no avail; the pride for these kids was overwhelming, and they felt it too. The groups' lips quivered as they tried to keep singing in their broken voices. But despite the tears and sniffles, there was no sorrow. This was a culmination of three weeks of work, friendships, bridges, and love. As I stood in the midst of this, I reflected on these three weeks. I had never thought of myself as a “kids person”. Yet here I was, thinking back to even the first week when I helped them work together. I had watched them grow and learn for three weeks, and I wanted to see more. I realized, “I want to keep doing this.” It all clicked into place, and I decided that I wanted to be a teacher.

A booming "CRACK!" echoed through the gymnasium. The older girl crashed down from the parallel bars while my gymnastics class watched from across the room. We later learned that she had cleanly broken her femur after slamming into the bar. I was always a daredevil child with little impulse control, but that sound stopped me in my tracks. For weeks, I cried any time my parents took me to the playground; the one nearest to our house had a set of metal bars similar to the ones in the gymnasium. I was terrified of hearing that sound again, or worse being on the receiving end of the accident. Though elementary schoolers rarely have the technique to perform the Olympic level tricks they see every four years, they will aspire to try. Playground safety ensures that even the students without fear have a healthy respect of the damage they can do to themselves. As previously mentioned, I had next to no impulse control as a child. I would hurl myself from swings, climb trees taller than my house, and attempt backflips regularly. Many adults warned me about injuring myself, but I brushed it off with little concern. I had never seen the consequences of my actions beyond a scrapped knee or a bruised elbow. Then I witnessed the accident at eight years old. Suddenly every adult warning clicked into place. "Oh my gosh," I thought to myself "I was swinging like that yesterday at the park!" After overcoming my initial terror, I carefully read every set of rules next to the playground, and became a tattletale if my friends defied those rules. None of them understood why I had become such a stickler for safety, as they had not heard that awful sound. I was meticulous in making sure I never heard it again. As a current teaching candidate, I have supervised my fair share of recesses and horseplay. I have watched my senior teachers stop students before an injury occurs, and while the students whine about Mrs. XYZ being no fun, they will listen. As a teacher, I will use similar tactics, such as deescalation or distraction, which can include playing a game or encouraging a different task. I will also explain why I am saying no to a specific activity, giving detail beyond "Because I said so," or "You will hurt yourself." What annoyed me as a child was the lack of explanation. I would think to myself, "Well I have hurt myself but it was not so bad." By explaining that it could be a broken bone with a scary noise, or a cut resulting in stitches at the doctor and how these things happen, I would have been much more attentive before being traumatized by witnessing such results first hand. Explanations and deescalations cannot prevent every injury. There will always be the odd scrape and bruise to be fixed with a kiss and band aid, but the prevention of serious injury is my goal as a teacher. Children are resilient, but also intelligent and will adapt to safety standard by having an understanding of why they exist.